The Left Series (Book 6): Left On An Island

by Fletcher, Christian

  Chapter Fifty

  “Come on, Wilde Man. We don’t have time to admire the scenery,” Smith yelled out behind me.

  I turned, still on my hands and knees and saw Smith gripping the handrail running around the walkway on the castle’s upper level. The armored truck’s roof stood a few feet below the bottom of the walkway and Smith hauled himself through the metal bars.

  I padded across the truck roof on all fours, like a kid pretending to be a dog. Smith crouched on the opposite side of the handrails and waved me forward. I stood and reached upward. A couple of rounds ricocheted off the side of the walkway, a few inches to my right, causing me to immediately recoil.

  “Hurry it up, Wilde,” Smith hollered. “Get on up here.” He reached out through the bars once again.

  I reached up and gripped his hands. Smith pulled me forward but the rifle on my back caught against the top handrail bar.

  “Shit, I’m snagged up, Smith,” I yelled.

  Smith grunted and shoved the rifle barrel around. The weapon uncomfortably dug into my back but I was able to slide myself between the metal rails and tumbled onto the walkway. My right hip and right knee smacked painfully onto the uneven stone surface as I slam-dunked down sideways.

  Smith rolled around, trying to free his legs from beneath my torso. He inadvertently kicked me in the ribs, adding to my aches and pains.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” I grunted.

  Smith stumbled to his feet and gripped me by my left bicep, hauling me upward.

  “Believe me, kid. If I wanted you dead you’d have been in the ground a long time ago.”

  Somehow, I knew he wasn’t kidding. The vivid memory of my dream or premonition or whatever the fuck it was flashed through my mind. The image of Smith coldly executing me, Pete and Marlon with the same nonchalance as stomping a few bugs crawling around a kitchen floor stayed in my subconscious for a few seconds.

  “Let’s go get Lowie and the others and then send that message to the ship.”

  “Okay,” I said, unsure where the hell we were heading.

  Smith led the way across the walkway. We scurried along in a stooped stance in attempt to be as invisible as we could. Lowie, Tony and Dan were huddled in the corner of the walkway, where the rear and left side walls met. They were slumped with their backs against the outer fortification and behind one of the searchlights. Lowie cradled Freek’s lifeless body, rocking from side to side with tears streaming down his cheeks. Tony held his head in his hands and Dan looked totally shit scared.

  “Wilde Man, you made it out alive!” Dan squawked. “Way to go, dude.”

  “We’re not out of this shit storm yet,” I said, rather callously. Maybe I should have sounded more encouraging but I was worried about our exit strategy. If at all we had one.

  Smith slung his rifle across his shoulder then grabbed hold of the searchlight and swung it around on its stand so it was facing out to sea.

  “Keep me covered, Wilde Man,” he instructed. “Anybody starts shooting at us then make sure you shoot them back.”

  I pulled the semi automatic rifle off my back and made sure I cocked it. “You got it,” I yelled.

  Smith began to rapidly flick the handle beside the searchlight beam, opening and closing the covers in sequence. I presumed he was sending a Morse code message and I hoped somebody onboard the Russian warship was able to see and be capable of deciphering the series of flicks and flashes.

  I turned back to check on the carnage going on down in the castle interior. The undead pressed onward and engulfed the few remaining militia men. I looked across to the far wall and saw a steady stream of zombies pushing and bustling their way up the steps to the upper level. The last of the militia men finally realized the battle was lost and backed up towards the open doorway to the low standing buildings to the right below me. Some of the militia had run out of ammunition and attempted to beat back the undead with their spent weapons. Those guys down there were no longer a problem. At best, they’d lock themselves inside the building and regroup.

  I glanced back across to the opposite castle wall. The undead plodded across the walkway in a continuous shuffling line. We’d have to make our way back down using the truck roof. The problem was the truck was some distance from the corner where we were positioned. If we judged our timing wrongly, the zombies would reach the walkway above the truck before we’d have time to get to that point.

  I turned my head back to Smith. “Are you almost done? The zombies are coming across the walkway.”

  Smith shook his head, the sea breeze ruffling his hair. “I keep sending the message but nobody has acknowledged it yet. I have to know they’ve copied my signal.”

  “Well, hurry it up whatever you’re going to do next,” I yelled. “We’ve only got another couple of minutes before we have to move.” I didn’t add that we still had to climb down onto the truck roof, somehow get on the ground and crawl inside the cab then drive through the mass of undead to escape the castle.

  Smith continued to rattle away on the light. I wondered if he knew what he was doing. Maybe he was sending the ship his laundry list instead of a come ashore message.

  I kept a watch on the approaching undead from the opposite walkway. The line was advancing and although a few of them were tumbling through the guardrails and over the side, they were still making progress.

  “Smith, I don’t want to unduly worry anybody but there is a whole bunch of undead heading in our direction,” I yelled.

  “All right, I heard you the first fucking time,” Smith responded.

  I half turned so I could see over the castle’s outer wall. There was nothing but blackness beyond and I couldn’t even make out the ship’s silhouette amongst the reef. Maybe they’d managed to free the hull somehow and sailed away into the night, leaving us stranded on this godforsaken island. Then I saw a sudden flash of bright white light out in the darkness.

  “There they are,” Smith hollered. He thrashed out his message once again on the searchlight.

  Almost immediately after Smith had completed his light message, a response came from the dark. The light flashed in a sequence of brief bursts and more elongated flashes. I didn’t have a clue what they meant.

  “What’s he saying out there, Smith?” I asked.

  Smith ignored me and mumbled incoherently, presumably trying to read the Morse code. I glanced back across the walkway and saw the stream of zombies wasn’t letting up and continuing to draw closer. The light from the sea flashed again, repeating its message and Smith read aloud this time.

  “Not possible to fix sea boat…unable to get ashore…can you find boat to land us?” Smith recited. “Shit, they can’t get here.” Smith flashed a short message in return.

  “Okay, understood,” I said. “Can we think about trying to get out of here now?”

  I turned back to the walkway and saw the line of undead had nearly reached the cut-off point. We had to move or we’d be stranded on the castle’s upper level.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Okay, let’s move out,” Smith said, waving Lowie, Tony and Dan out from behind the searchlight.

  I heard the disappointment in Smith’s voice as he spoke. We really could have done with a helping hand from McElroy and his crew but my main concern was getting to the armored truck below us.

  Tony and Dan scrabbled to their feet and moved out from behind the searchlight, joining Smith and I on the walkway. They both looked awkward as they held out their respective plundered firearms in front of them, aiming at the oncoming undead horde. Lowie remained slumped against the wall, still cradling Freek’s corpse.

  “Come on, Lowie. We have to go, man,” Dan said.

  Lowie looked up with a tear streaked face. “Maybe I will just stay here. I cannot go on without the love of my life.”

  Smith’s eyes narrowed. “You listen to me, Lowie and you listen good. You have about five seconds to get your ass up from that corner and come with us. We’re going to get down off this da
mned wall and we’re going to get inside that damn truck and we’re getting the fuck out of here.” He jabbed his forefinger at the Dutchman. “We’ve all lost people we love, Lowie, everybody has, me and Wilde Man here more than most. But you have to carry on. You have to keep going otherwise what was the point in being born?”

  I blew out and up my face. “Wow, that was heavy,” I muttered.

  “But he’s gone forever, Smith,” Lowie wailed. “And I’ll never see him again.”

  Smith took a pace forward and leant down, clenching his teeth as he spoke. “Would Freek want you to get eaten alive by fucking zombies, Lowie? Because that’s what’s going to happen if you don’t come with us right fucking now.”

  Lowie tilted his head back and wailed into the night sky.

  “Come on, Smith,” I hissed. “Come on, we have to go now or we’re all zombie food.”

  Lowie leaned his head forward and kissed Freek on the forehead. He muttered something in Dutch then slid the corpse off his lap and pushed himself upright.

  “Okay,” he said, wiping the tears from his face. “I’m ready to go now.”

  “About fucking time,” Smith growled, turning towards the rear walkway.

  Lowie slipped the rifle from his shoulder and loaded a fresh magazine. We set off across the walkway running along the rear wall of the castle. It looked as though we were going to charge headlong into the line of zombies bearing towards us and I felt uncomfortable with our necessary course of action. The sight of our approach only seemed to spur the undead into a quicker pace along the walkway. I suddenly doubted if we were going to make the position above the truck roof in time.

  Smith reached the handrails above the truck first. He crouched, aimed and fired off a short burst of gunfire, dropping a few zombies on the walkway. Some of the undead rolled beneath the guardrails and dropped to the ground below but a few fell and remained on the walkway, temporarily blocking the path of the others behind them.

  “Get over the side,” Smith shouted. “Get inside the truck, Wilde Man. You got the keys. I’ll hold them off here for as long as I can.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “But don’t hang around. We won’t have much time.”

  Smith fired another brief burst as I reached the handrails above the truck.

  “Don’t worry, kid. I don’t intend on waiting around too long,” he said. “I’ll join you as soon as I hear that truck start up.”

  I slung the rifle over my shoulder and climbed over the handrails. I waited a beat and let myself fall on top of the armored truck’s roof. Tony and Dan joined me a few seconds later but Lowie crouched shoulder to shoulder with Smith on the walkway. The two of them continued shooting a few of the leading zombies in the line.

  The castle interior was awash with undead streaming around the floor space. The groaning and screeching noises they made echoed around the walls and sounded like a giant swarm of angry bees. Around thirty zombies huddled around the front door of the buildings to the right where the remaining militia guys were holed up. They wouldn’t be coming out of there any time soon.

  The undead on the ground hadn’t noticed us up on the truck’s roof and I hoped we could keep it that way, for a little while longer at least. I hurried across the roof to the ladder at the rear of the truck and glanced down to the ground. The space between the back of the truck and the rear wall was steeped in darkness. It was going to be a risk lowering myself down into a gap where I couldn’t see anything but the main hub of undead was in the center of the castle or trying to climb onto the upper level.

  I winced at the steady popping of semi automatic gunfire above me, where Smith and Lowie continued to shoot the undead trudging across the walkway. I hoped the sound of gunfire was being drowned out by the dreadful din of inhuman moans drifting through the castle. The gunshots would surely attract the undead and they’d either make their way up the steps towards the source of the noise or they’d come closer below the walkway.

  I knew I had to hurry before we were swamped.

  I turned and gripped the sides of the ladder. Tony and Dan crouched each side of me.

  “You two wait here until I’ve got the truck doors open,” I whispered. “Shoot anything if they get too close.”

  Tony and Dan nodded in the dim light. I looked down into the gloom below and started my descent.

  Nothing or nobody loomed out of the darkness when I hit the ground. I had time to breathe a brief sigh of relief before I peered around the rear right side corner of the truck. Most of the zombie horde was either heading across the castle ground to the foot of the staircase to the left or joining the others in an attempt to break through the entry door to the buildings. But a few, as I feared were attracted to the sounds of gunfire above me on the walkway. They began lumbering towards the truck but kept their heads tilted upward to the higher ground.

  A wide shadow fell across the right side of the truck and I knew I had to try and move to the cab in double quick time or none of us would make it out of the place alive. I pressed my back to the side of the truck and crept slowly and stealthily through the shadows towards the passenger door. I felt in my pocket and pulled out the key bunch, careful not to let them jangle free. The truck seemed fairly old but sturdily made and I doubted whether it would have all the gadgets and gizmos of a new vehicle. The locks were probably still manually operated by the key and not on sensor activation. There was no thick fob with buttons to press on the key bunch but I didn’t know which one would unlock the door.

  I got to the passenger door and had to reach up to grip the handle. I pulled but the door didn’t open. Shit! The door was locked. I fumbled with the key bunch and tried a few in the lock until I heard a slight clunk from the opposite side of the door. I tried the handle again and heard it click open.

  A low throaty growl alerted me to the front of the truck. I saw a figure staggering closer, a few feet from the front fender. I couldn’t shoot the ghoul or more of them would be alerted. No time for messing around, I had to get inside the cab and get the sucker started up.

  I pulled open the door and hopped up into the cab that stunk of stale sweat. An interior light glowed dimly in the center and I saw a sea of torn up faces turn towards the light source.

  “Ah, shit,” I whispered and tried to quietly close the door.

  I slid along the leather bench seat and fumbled around the steering column, desperately trying to find the ignition slot.

  “Where the fuck are you?” I cursed.

  I eventually found the ignition on the dash and again tried several keys before one clicked to the right. Several lights lit up on the dash and I knew we were in business. I glanced up through the windshield and gasped. A whole bunch of undead pushed and jostled for a leading position, while massing in front of the truck.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  I had no choice but to fire up the engine. I’d been spotted and now it was time to make an attempt at escaping the goddamn castle. I turned the ignition key all the way to the right and heard the starter whine. I pumped my foot on the gas pedal and was relieved when the engine slowly rumbled into life.

  My relief was short lived when I gazed upward from the dash and saw countless zombies surrounding the truck. They banged on the sides of the cab and I scrabbled over the seats to manually hit the lock on the passenger door. I heard a series of thuds on the roof and hoped that meant Smith and Lowie had joined Tony and Dan on the top of the truck.

  I glanced back down at the dash panel and the gear shift stick, trying to familiarize myself with the controls when an upside down face hung down outside the windshield. I recoiled in my seat in shock before I realized Smith was staring back at me from the opposite side of the glass. He was leaning down from the roof.

  “We can’t get down from the here,” he said. “Too many zombies around us. You’ll have to pull the truck forward and get us out of here but take it steady, okay. No sudden braking or increasing of speed, got it?”

  “I hear you,” I shouted.

&n
bsp; “We’ll do our best to clear a pathway through from up here,” Smith added.

  “Okay, got it,” I replied.

  “All right, Wilde Man,” Smith said, tapping the roof of the cab. “Take us out of here.”

  He disappeared from view and I tried to quickly recall how to drive a manual vehicle. The gear box crunched as I attempted to engage first gear. I released my foot off the clutch pedal and the truck lurched forward, knocking over a few dozen zombies like skittle pins.

  The truck stalled and a furious banging came from the roof.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Wilde?” was only one of the insults I could decipher above the mass groaning of the undead all around the truck.

  “Okay, okay,” I yelled.

  I felt sweat trickle down my forehead. I couldn’t afford to fuck up this maneuver. I had the fate of four other people’s lives in my hands. I took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

  “You can do this,” I said out loud. “The undead can’t get inside the cab, the doors and windshield are too high for them to reach. All you got to do is plow through the middle of them slowly and take us the hell out of here.”

  “You know they say the first sign of madness is talking to yourself?”

  “What?” I turned to my right. Another voice was inside the cab. “Oh, shit, not you again.” My alternative self had unwelcomingly reappeared. His face looked gaunt and thin as though the skin was tightening across his face. He wore what looked like a dark colored military uniform and a peaked cap with a deaths-head insignia in the center.

  “You know how to drive this truck?”

  “Yeah, of course I do,” I snapped.

  “It doesn’t fucking look like it, dude,” my other self said, laughing as he spoke.

  I restarted the truck’s engine and engaged first gear again. I released my foot from the clutch pedal slowly and the vehicle moved smoothly forward.

  I turned to the hallucination in the passenger seat and nodded smugly. “There you go.”